sunday at south street seaport

My parents chose to name me Danielle not for a family namesake but because my mom's childhood best friend's maiden name is Daniels. My "Aunt" Donna is obviously a significant person to them both, and to me too as she is both my godmother and the primary reason I appreciate country music. Yes, really.

[best brunch at Fresh Salt: quiche of the day, mixed green salad, mimosa]

[best find at the farmers market: Brewla Bars]

I spent a wonderful day at South Street Seaport with my mom, "Aunt" Donna, and "cousin" Ryan. It's amazing how time changes so much yet so little.

paris is always a good idea

This belated birthday gift I received a few months is relevant now more than ever :) thank you for the kind, thoughtful responses to my last post. Happy Friday.

P.S. Only 24 days until my departure! Absolute insanity.

things I'm afraid to tell you

Honestly, guys and gals: it takes a whole lot to be authentic online. As much as I intend to present everything as it truly is on this blog, I also leave out details about my personal life and self as a means to create a somewhat "better" version of reality. I suppose this is human nature, and I don't enjoy whining. But, after reading Ashley's and Sarah's and Erin's Things I'm Afraid to Tell Yous, I'm realizing the value in more vulnerability. So here goes... everything? Please don't be harsh. I know I'm hardly perfect.

Although solely understanding has it's benefits, I feel inadequate for not being fluent in Spanish. I should speak Spanish. With a grandmother from Colombia and a father from Mexico (and plenty of other multilingual family members), there's really no reason for me not to be bilingual at this very moment. And yet I'm not. According to my grandmother, when I was too young to remember, she tried to speak to me solely in Spanish. Do you know how I responded? "Grandma, hablame normal por favor." Also known as, "Grandma, speak to me normally please." Yes, her and my dad should have been consistent and persistent (having interned at Lucie Berger in Strasbourg, I've seen how remarkably fast children can pick up new languages), but I also played a small role. Boo. I will literally spend the rest of my life working at it.

I wish I could control matters of the heart. I understand I have no say in how people feel about me, but must I really go on caring about those I'd rather forget about? It's just inconvenient. Furthermore, I'm too gosh darn picky with future prospects. I agree, dating should be fun and one should not settle, but it is so beyond frustrating to be good at meeting people that are as interested in me as I am unenthused about them. What is my deal? Just because this would be an awfully awkward time to have a boyfriend, doesn't mean I wouldn't like to meet someone who I actually want to exchange flirty texts and go on fun dates with. Prince Charming, that's your cue. I promise to be nice.

Gosh, I'd like to be more athletic. Most of the time I am very content with a moderate yoga practice, infrequent barre classes, and walking as much possible, but I honestly wish working out came more naturally to me. It seems as though everyone else happily exercises at least four times a week. It's a part of their routine, and thus, they are almost always fit. I, on the other hand, go through habits of running or fitness classes far too quickly to ever maintain a consistently strong bod. I just want to maintain my active lifestyle (and weight) abroad.

I miss my friend. Humility aside, I like to think I have lots of friends; and that's just because I've done numerous random activities and walked away with at least one person worth keeping in touch with. With that said, I lost one special friendship a little over a year ago. The absolute worst part? I have no idea why. Even with a busy social schedule, it's hard to accept I'll most likely never see her again. I doubt I'll ever really get over it.

Finally, perhaps the thing I'm most afraid to tell you: I'm just as terrified as I am excited for what's to come. Moving to Paris for grad school is huge in and of itself, and I'm doing it alone. Sure, I was scared to study abroad for a year; I didn't know anyone in either of the programs, I was moving to countries I was (mostly) unfamiliar with, and I was so, so afraid to miss... everything. The comfort was, no matter what, I knew I was coming home after. I had a plane ticket to prove it. And if that wasn't enough, I had two remaining semesters at Syracuse University which would surely ensure my best friendships would not be lost nor forgotten. There was a similar comfort on my solo cross-country road trip—if you replace my senior year at SU with my first few working years in New York. Plus, I was in a car, giving me absolute power to literally go straight home if I'd wanted. Now I only have a one-way ticket. No matter how excited I am to study a topic I've always been passionate about or live in a city I've adored for years, the lack of guarantee is unnerving. I'm sure I'll be lonely from time to time, but what if I fail? And I mean that in more than the academic sense (though that is also a concern). This is the most unknown I've ever tried to handle and I'm not so sure I can. Oh, and what if I do/don't come back? To the USA, that is. I'm aware I may not want to return New York with my masters, but I could literally end up anywhere depending on my personal situation and employment opportunities. Why yes, I do have trouble sleeping for the same reasons I chose this path in the first place...

Words by D. Alvarez, Logo by Ez